All that is not deserved
by Rhaegal Nymeria Stark
Summary: Unlike Bellatrix, Narcissa knew her sins would never be forgiven. One-sided NarcissaxHermione


Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns all as usual

**All that is not Deserved: **

**Narcissa's POV:**

I know that many, even in the magical world, say that karma will eventually find you, no matter how hard you hide. If that is true, then I am experiencing the worst of karma. Admittedly, I did not necessarily commit the more terrible of crimes during the witch and wizarding war, but I did stand back and do nothing while millions suffered; all for my son, Draco's sake. It could have been worse; but I have allowed many to be tortured and murdered.

I supposed it is coming back to haunt me now. I was pleased, truly, that my sister, Bellatrix had found someone to love and someone to take care of her, but that was the problem. Bellatrix didn't deserve Hermione.

It was a real problem when I realized it; it dawned on me that in the end, Hermione would choose Bellatrix no matter what. I knew that I could reform myself completely in Godric Gryffindor's image, but that means nothing. In Hermione's eyes, I am a petty woman who did nothing to help anyone during the war, and Bellatrix, despite all her sins, has redeemed herself and is a beautiful god in the young witch's view.

Bellatrix is my big sister. I realized at some point, when I was seven or eight that I was willing to do anything for my sisters; Bellatrix and Andromeda. Bellatrix and Andromeda had been all I had had during when we were children. They were there for me when my mother and father tortured me, threw me into their dungeons, telling me that I deserved to die and was unworthy of the Black name. I suffered for years, but Bellatrix and Andromeda were there for me the whole time.

But the damage was done. To survive the cruelties of my own family, I became cold and unfeeling. Only allowing any semblance of emotion to come through when I first held my son in my arms at the doctor's office.

But Bellatrix; all insanity and crimes aside, was fiery, wild, terrifying, but was not cold emotionally. She was like a rabid dog, but her emotions were so strong always, so out of control. I wondered what could have attracted Hermione to Bellatrix when I first found out about their relationship, but thinking more and more about my sister's passion; her strength, I realized that I shouldn't even wonder. The moment Hermione saw Bellatrix at the Department of Mysteries, she was Bellatrix's. I should have known that long ago.

When Hermione was brought in to our manor, and when I saw the look on her face when she saw Bellatrix at the manor, I should have known. I despise Cygnus and Druella Black for what they did to us. I hate them for making me as cold as I am. My life would have been so different, had it not been for them. They destroyed me completely.

I am cold and distant; I wish I could say that there was warmth and zealous desire beneath my icy exterior, but I have yet to find the inspiration to bring out any warmer, romantic aspects of myself.

Bellatrix has always been willful; she's always been so full of passion. I don't know how that is possible, but it is. She is the oldest of us, and she had spent the longest time with our blood parents; Cygnus and Druella Black, and yet she is lively, strong, pulsing with energy and confidence. No wonder Hermione was drawn to her.

However, that doesn't change my feelings. Just because I understand Hermione's love and affections, doesn't mean that a part of me still doesn't ache and fester at the thought of never receiving the young witch's tender adorations. I've been watching them for the past half hour: Bellatrix and her beloved Hermione.

The two of them are at the gathering my son has held at our manor. It's funny, isn't it? You'd think after all the time that Hermione had been held here captive, tortured and enslaved for nearly a year, she would never want to see the inside of this manor ever again. It's truly bizarre, for instead of showing any signs of repulsion for the manor, Hermione simply walks through this house as if it's the most natural thing in the world. I've sometimes watched her walking through the manor, wondering if I'd see her react the way a normal human being would, upon returning to the spot of her torture, but it seems completely unproblematic for her.

It's very troubling, really. It's very disturbing, thinking that maybe she's so emotionally broken that trauma can't affect her anymore. Maybe she really is affected by that…what was it Potter called it? Stockholm Syndrome? Maybe Hermione has been affected by that sickness. To be fair, though, I realize that perhaps I am sick as well for loving her.

Hermione might very well be insane, and if I love her…..well, then I can't say I'm too well off when it comes to my sanity, can I?

Seeing my sister now, at this gathering and watching her pick up our baby great-nephew; Teddy; named after our sister; Andromeda's late husband, and seeing her smile at the baby, her grin wide, looking almost completely innocent of her crimes, I can feel the burning envy begin to reside within me, twisting my insides, contaminating my conscience.

Why does Bellatrix get absolved of her crimes and get welcomed back into our sister and niece's arms, when my niece still looks at me as if I'm the enemy? Why does Bellatrix get Hermione's love, when the muggle-born only regards me as a friend?

Bellatrix killed thousands, I've killed no one. At least, not directly, but nonetheless, I am ostracized and called a coward. For all of Bellatrix's passion, there are a sum of thousands of dead bodies piled up behind her-and to say nothing of those that she has driven insane as she laughed with glee, she has been forgiven by the same young woman who she nearly tortured to death for months in this same house, and she is accepted by all of those that once saw her as an enemy, and yet no one even looks at me.

I can see Hermione right now, staring at Bellatrix, who was still holding Teddy up. Hermione was smiling with such adoration, that my heart nearly broke. Hermione's eyes; always on Bellatrix. Bellatrix giggled, rubbing the baby's nose against hers. Hermione's smile only widened at the sight. The young muggle-born walked over and nuzzled her face into the back of Bellatrix's neck, wrapping her arms around my sister's shoulders, grinning.

"And this is proof that you'll be a wonderful mother, love." Hermione said gently to Bella. My sister froze, and I think I froze as well, at the same time as Bellatrix did. What did Hermione say?

Dread filled me at what I heard. I knew that it _was_ possible for women in our world to be impregnated by other women; using magic, but the thought of Bellatrix ever having children terrifies me. And to think that Hermione would willingly subject any child to that…..I couldn't even imagine.

Bella started moving again, when she felt Teddy squirm in her grasp. She handed Teddy to our sister; Andromeda carefully.

I stared, beginning to feel my dread mount as I watched Bellatrix turn around in Hermione's arms, facing her lover. Bella seemed as disturbed as I was. She shook her head as Andromeda started placing Teddy on his seat at a table.

"Hermione," Bella started, "We can't. The child will be unwell. If it's a child of mine, she'll surely be sick or corrupted by me." Hermione pulled away from Bellatrix. She stared at the older woman, perturbed. "Don't say things like that." She nearly snapped, "Bella, you've changed. I know a lot of people won't believe that, but you have. Trust me, a few years ago, you would never have held your great-nephew like that. You'd treat him as if he was less than human. You have changed."

The words pained me and I watched Bellatrix watch Hermione with uncertainty. Hermione smiled again. "Well?" She repeated, "Would you have given any form of love or tenderness to Teddy a year ago? Would you have?"

I almost flinched at the same time that Bella did. All three of us knew that answer. No, no Bellatrix wouldn't have. I wouldn't have either. The pureblood mania that our parents drilled into ours and Andromeda's heads had destroyed both my sister and I and made us nearly inhuman as we tried to fulfill the wishes of our insane parents, even as they lay in their graves.

I sometimes shudder my weakness, even now. Our parent's skeletons laid in their coffins, never to be released, and despite never having to see them ever again, Bella and I cowered and obeyed their every command, solely based on the fear we had of their memory.

In that moment, that was when I understood why Bellatrix had received Hermione's love and why so many trusted Bellatrix now and not I. It was because Bella had realized how ridiculous our parents' expectations of us had been, and I hadn't. Bellatrix stopped living in fear of Cygnus Black, Druella Black, and Voldemort a long time ago. I still couldn't say Voldemort's name without feeling that I was in terrible danger. True, I could say his name indeed, and even bluff that I possessed no fear of him, but it was all a lie. I was still terrified of him, even after his death. Bella had moved on. I hadn't.

I sighed grimly. Bella was always the strong one.

As tears started to form beneath my now closed eyelids, I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, forcing me to turn around.

I saw my niece, Tonks looking at me, a sympathetic and curious appearance covering her countenance. "Aunt Narcissa?" She asked quietly, "What's the matter?" I stared at my niece, and forced myself to sniffle a little. I needed to get my emotions under control, dammit. Merlin, you'd think after years of the abuse my parents put me through, that I'd have more control on my vulnerable feelings. But I don't. I know I probably shouldn't be wishing that I was less emotional. After all, isn't a lack of emotion what my parents wanted of me?

I felt my cold façade start to cover my fearful and wounded expression. "Nothing's wrong, girl." I answered, making sure my worries were subdued, "I just have to live with the consequences of not redeeming myself at the right time." Alright, perhaps I wasn't acting as mature as I should have, and was letting my bitter anger seep in, but it was hard not to when a beautiful, brilliant, kind and strong treasure like Hermione Granger was just out of my reach and in my sister's hands.

The sympathy remained in Tonks's eyes, but her gaze hardened. Tonks voice became low, "Narcissa, I know the way you look at Hermione. I know that she affects you. You can lie, if you want, but I know. You can't hide your feelings from Hermione forever."

I wondered if I could push Tonks away enough to stare her down for her to leave this matter alone, but just looking at her now, I could tell, she was going to be unyielding right now. As unyielding as my father, Cygnus. I smiled sadly. It seemed Tonks had indeed inherited _something_ from her grandfather.

I hated my father for making me feel trapped. He and Druella made me think that the only way to survive this world was to be as ruthless and unfeeling as possible; to smother my emotions and never let anyone in. I wanted to relieve myself of responsibility and not admit that I made the choice myself to pass those ignorant morals, (or lack thereof) down to my son, Draco.

"There's nothing to be changed," I answered, not wanting to think any further about this, "Hermione has chosen Bellatrix, and that's all there is to it. She spent as much time with Bellatrix, and it's obvious that she was able to heal your aunt's heart. She's in love with Bellatrix and there's nothing I can do about it."

Tonks lifted her head, now appearing curious. "How long?" She seemed compelled to ask, "How long have you been in love with Hermione?"

I felt my usually nonchalant mask almost drop, becoming tense. I knew that that question had been coming for a while, but I hadn't wanted to hear it under any circumstance.

"For a long time now," I gulped out, accepting how helpless I was, "I know how morbid this is, but when Ms. Granger was at the Manor…being tortured by my sister, I saw parts of her that I imagine no one else would ever be allowed to see, or at least I deluded myself into believing that I saw those parts of her alone. I wasn't the only one, of course. Even if I did see Ms. Granger's most vulnerable side, she didn't show that vulnerability _for me_, she did it for my sister."

Upon that confession, watched my all too forgiving niece's eyes become pitying and tearful. She whispered, "I'm sorry, aunt. You shouldn't have to carry this on your shoulders. But you know, a part of me feels like you do deserve it. You didn't do anything when Hermione was being cut into. Sure, aunt Bellatrix did all the torturing, but you, Lucius, and Draco didn't do anything to help Hermione. You didn't protect her, you didn't try to get her out, you didn't even fake that she had escaped. So I truly am sorry, but maybe, just maybe, you brought this on yourself."

I stared, feeling anger immediately. Damn this girl. I glared. My shield was torn away within seconds once I heard those words. Damn it, I might deserve nothing, but this infuriating witch had no right to cast judgment on me. She was not here during Hermione's pain. The only one who had the right to speak to me and condemn me like this was sharing my sister's bed.

"That is nothing for you to be concerned about." I said, voice deliberately becoming rude and harsh, "you have no place in this. I only neglected you as a half-blood because of my ignorance, but you were not there when Hermione was captured and tortured. The only one who has the right to judge me or forgive me is Hermione. This is none of your business. Hermione is the only one who has a place to be angry."

My multi-colored haired niece stared at me, eyes skeptical. "You're right. But I suppose that's the reason why I'm the one telling you what you need to hear; because Hermione is too kind to show you want kind of selfish person you are. Hermione might be the one with the right to call you out on this, but she's forgiven you. I will not let you get off so easily. Maybe Bellatrix butchered Hermione's arm and skin, but you just sat on your ass and did nothing. Everything has its consequences, aunt, you just happened to receive the aspect of karma that involves not getting what you want."

In that moment, I had exactly the emotional tools I needed to erect my shield back up.

One thing my parents had taught me; recover from a verbal assault fast and never let anyone see what I was truly feeling. This present moment would be no exception. Tonks would not get the satisfaction of seeing me in any more pain than could be afforded. I didn't have to ask my niece if my mask was in place. I could tell just from Tonks's lifted eyebrows that I clearly had an impressively icy exterior.

Tonks started to back away, never breaking eye contact with me. I felt a chill run down my spine at her strangely knowledgeable eyes. No cold beauty that I had ever seen before would ever hold a candle to the intensity and blatantly incriminating scrutiny in my niece's eyes.

I felt a creeping feeling of darkness start to consume me. It was awful. I had all of the worst factors of my life thrown in my face, proving exactly the type of sociopath I was; maybe not a violent one, but a passive, an uncaring one, and I couldn't deal with the end results.

It was not a good feeling at all.

"Get out." I said, voice now weak, "You might be allowed here right now, but get out of my sight."

My words might have been seen as pig-headed, but all I said was simply out of hurt and inability to accept that I would never know the warm, soft embrace of Hermione's love.

"It's sad," Tonks said quietly, now at the door, about to enter the next room where Draco, Andromeda and Teddy were, "A Black who, for once will never get what she really wants in life. But I suppose when you're dealing with a situation like this, that's probably unavoidable, isn't it? Just take responsibility for what happened, like aunt Bella did. Accept that you did nothing while Hermione's screams filled these halls. While she begged for mercy, you just sat back and poured yourself a drink."

Tonks then exited the room, closing the wooden door behind her. The echoing sound made me shudder at the finality of what my niece had just said.

Yes, the finality, and the truth of her words. I _had_ done nothing while Hermione was being tortured, I _had_ just sat myself back and poured a drink, only thinking about my son, my immediate selfish desires.

And that was why Hermione had accepted Bellatrix into her heart and not me. When Bellatrix was captured by Aurors, what was it that she had said? She had admitted completely to all of her acts. Bellatrix was strong.

So strong that she had proudly admitted to her crimes while the rest of us, including me, had lied that we were under the Imperius curse. Of course, no one _really _believed it, but since we were high class witches and wizards, and purebloods, it was seen as acceptable and pardonable.

But we didn't admit to our actions like Bellatrix had. That was why Hermione is Bellatrix's mate and not mine. I could wipe my hands clean completely if I wanted, but it wouldn't change what had done. And I wouldn't even admit it. Bellatrix on the other hand, marched forward fearlessly, admitting to what she had done. Bella was strong and proud; that was why Hermione trusted her and fell in love with her, and not me.

My agonizing thoughts were preoccupied when I felt a pair of hands slide down my shoulders and wrap around my neck, in its cold grasp. I didn't bother turning my head to look at my husband. I recognized Lucius's scent by its cool temperature and the foreboding scent of metal and mildew.

Has Draco told you where he hopes to take Astoria for their honeymoon after the wedding goes through?" I closed my eyes in thought about my son. Ah yes; the wedding. Even though my son was young yet, he had fallen in love with Astoria Green and had asked her to marry him not that long ago. Apparently, Astoria had accepted Draco's proposal and they were to be wed by May this year. This was in fact one of the parties before the wedding. Funny, how tradition is forced to be integrated into our society, regardless of what we think we have a say in. And society never thinks about the systematic abuse it puts the youth through. Merlin knows my parents never thought about the damage society would do to my sisters and I. Society; always so diligent and dutiful in corrupting young people with its so-called morals.

I rested my back against his chest, answering him without thinking. That's just how I am. I am naturally weak and submissive and don't do anything to make a difference. And that is why Lucius is perfect for me. A worthless coward should stay with a worthless coward.

That's why Hermione is not the missing puzzle piece that fits me; that's why she fits Bellatrix and Lucius fits me.

Because Lucius is also weak and submissive and without meaning. He didn't do anything to help anyone during the magical wars either.

Hermione is too strong for me. It's only right that her true mate is Bellatrix.

Hermione is simply all that I do not deserve.


End file.
